here in the death of Christ I live

Candy wrappers are everywhere. Flowers are finally blooming. The students who went home for the weekend were rudely thrown right back into the routine of classes, exams, and final projects on Monday. We barely had time to breathe, to remember.

And yet.

The Cross isn’t something you pack up when the day is done and good-byes are said. I don’t want to just remember the lovely day and move on, like I do for other holidays. Because really, if you have seen the majesty and miracle of the resurrection – can you simply go about your normal life again?

I want my normal life to be about gazing on the Cross. I want, and I need to always remember it. Because it gives me a new perspective that I so desperately need; it allows me to see the world, my circumstances, myself with incredible gratitude and trust and love.

My heart wanders so much. I forget so much.

Jerry Bridges reminds us that we need to “preach the gospel to ourselves”, daily. Yes, I do.

I was reading Christ our Mediator over the weekend, and something CJ Mahaney wrote struck me. He asked if I could honestly say where my heart had been focused over the last week – and honestly, it wasn’t pretty. My heart was focused on me, myself, and my problems. Small wonder that last week was a roller coaster of a week!

The eyes of my heart were in the wrong place. And it’s so tragically easy for me to forget. In my favorite analogy of Peter walking on the water, I look at the waves far more often than I look at Jesus. No wonder I sink!

My heart’s cry now is that I wouldn’t forget. That I would be reminded, and remind myself, everyday. That I would truly live in light of the Cross.

I don’t know exactly how to make that happen. Except I think it has a lot more to do with me allowing God to do it than being able to do anything on my own. But recognizing and praying this is a start, right?

May your week be blessed. In the face of trials and problems, may you remember the glorious truth – that you’ve been ransomed and redeemed, loved and set free.

And that’s the only thing that really matters.

Oh, the wonderful Cross, bids me come and die, and find that I may truly live…